


Kraglin's

by snipershezz



Series: Kinktober 2018 [21]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, First Meetings, Food Sex, Idiots in Love, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Love at First Sight, M/M, Maple Syrup as Lube, Meet-Cute, Sex in a Diner, The Ending is So Fluffy Ya'll, all cuteness here, good lord why is that an actual tag?!, this can’t be hygienic but it’s Yondu and Kraglin so…
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22580953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipershezz/pseuds/snipershezz
Summary: Yondu hadn’t seen the sun for weeks, but through the smog of the city he spies a sign for a diner and decides on a whim to go in. It was the best decision he’s ever made.
Relationships: Kraglin Obfonteri/Yondu Udonta
Series: Kinktober 2018 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1151222
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: Kinktober 2018





	Kraglin's

**Author's Note:**

> Rita and Janice are inspired by an Aussie children’s show called Bluey, the episode is ‘Grannies’ and it’s freaking hilarious. I can just see two old ladies being exactly like these two, so here they are XD
> 
> October 21st - Prompt Twenty-One: Food Play
> 
> #kinktober

Kraglin's was a small diner on a monstrously industrialised planet, located in a thirteen planetary system on the fourth arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. It wasn't all that much to look at but was popular due to the excellent coffee and cheap grub. At least, that’s what people would tell you out loud. Underneath the table, they’d slip you a note saying Kraglin sold beer at lunchtime and it was the best in the system. Of course, that wasn’t on the up-and-up and Kraglin’s customers were very loyal, so it was never strictly _spoken_ about.

The streets were wet. Cracked, uneven concrete filled with oil and water, creating shimmering puddles blurred only by the occasional sole of a boot.

Yondu Udonta hadn't been on this planet all that long and he already hated it. He missed where he was last stationed on the dry and dusty planet, TH-314, but his transfer was non-negotiable, so here he was.

The buildings towered up into the smoggy sky, the dullness only punctuated by the broken-down advertisements and neon signs. Everything here was grey and lifeless, not an ounce of plant matter anywhere, the only wildlife the occasional scraggly orloni seen digging through trash cans. Yondu hadn't seen the sun for weeks.

Then again, even if it were possible to see it through the smog, the Centaurian wouldn't have. Every morning he was up at 4am and out his apartment door at 4.30, generally he didn't return until well after 6pm - sometimes as late as 8pm.

He was the best Foreman the interplanetary construction company had, and he was highly sort after for all the top jobs, his crew was high quality - the best at what they did. It took him to some interesting places, but the hours were long and exhausting. He really couldn't argue with the pay though - he was making _bank_.

This particular job was huge, it would take them at least a year, maybe longer if the weather continued to be as crappy as it had been so far.

Yondu sighed as he rounded onto the next block towards the job site, he had a long day ahead. His crew would be blasting today, it was a dangerous job to begin with, not to mention the building site being in the middle of a huge city.

He rubbed at his eyes, he needed more coffee.

Just as he pulled his hand away, he caught a large neon sign out of the corner of his eye. He slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, taking in the sight.

Stuffed between two huge towering apartment blocks was a little, old style diner. The large blue neon read _Kraglin's_ , the sign on the glass door was flipped to open. Yondu shrugged, he was early, he could afford to stop for coffee and a bite to eat.

When he pushed open the door, a little bell rang out and a voice called out from the back;

"Sit wherever ya want, be right wit' ya."

The Centaurian shrugged, crossing the black and white checked floor to one of the red booths along the front windows. He grabbed one of the sugar packets out of a tin cup and toyed with it as he looked around.

The left side of the door had a white sleek breakfast bar looking out into the street, with cushy red barstools, more of the same lined the front, around the coffee machine and register. The booths lined the right side of the windows all the way to the end of the small shop. A jukebox was stuffed in the corner, next to a door Yondu assumed was probably the bathroom.

It was cute, cosy. The atmosphere was calming, Yondu decided he quite liked it.

A shadow covered the table he was seated at and the same voice from when he walked in floated to his ears;

"What c'n I git'cha?"

Yondu looked up - _waaay_ up - shit, this guy was tall. An unkempt five o'clock shadow covered his face, the lop-sided smile tinted with silver. His brown hair was cut into a mohawk, the sides shaved close to his skull, the remaining hair was a little too long, flopping over to the left at the tips. A scarred eyebrow raised, over the bluest eyes Yondu had ever seen, amusement colouring them.

It was then he realised he'd been staring and silent for a number of minutes. He looked down at the sugar packet he'd destroyed between his ragged nails and cleared his throat awkwardly, "Uh - gimme a coffee an' some eggs wit' toast." He paused. "Please."

"How do ya have yer eggs?"

"Scrambled."

"White bread?"

"Yea, drown tha' shit in butter will ya?"

"Sure, want cream wit' yer coffee?"

"Yeah, ta."

"No worries. Egg'll take 'bout five minutes, I'll bring yer coffee out in a minute."

"Ta." He replied watching the man retreat behind the counter. His limbs were long - almost too long for his body - and he was rail thin, the smudged up, stained apron hung from his frame, the tie looked like it had been wound around his hips two or three times before being tied at the front.

He reached up to a high shelf - Yondu would've had to stand on a chair to even graze his fingertips along - for a white mug. He flipped it, placing it under the coffee spout and hit a button before disappearing into the kitchen. The clatter of a pan followed, along with the cracking of eggs and Yondu forced himself to crane his neck in the other direction, lest the intriguing man catch him staring again.

His mind went to supply orders and his plans for the crew today as he stared out into the damp, steaming street.

The shadow reappeared sliding a jug of cream and a mug that smelled divine in front of him.

"Coffee an' cream. Egg'll be ready in two minutes."

Yondu looked up with a smirk, revealing his crooked teeth, "Ta."

He watched as the Centaurian pulled a handful of sugars out the tin, ripping the tops off six and dumping them in the steaming mug. He tipped in the cream and stirred the mug with his finger, Yondu then pulled his finger out and sucked the coffee off it.

The sight was disturbingly erotic, and the taller man cleared his throat quietly. "So - uh - I ain't seen ya 'round before, ya new ta tha city or somement?"

"Or somement." Yondu grunted back, taking a sip of the coffee, groaning at the flavour as he swallows. "Fuckin'ell that coffee's brilliant - uh - what'cha say yer name was?"

The man blushed a pretty purple across his pale nose, "Thank ya. An' I didn't. It's Kraglin by tha way - ma name, like."

"Kraglin." Yondu tried it out on his tongue. He smiled it was a nice name. "I been here two weeks, ta answer yer question. Ya know tha construction site down tha road?"

"Yeah."

"'M tha Foreman down there."

Kraglin raised his eyebrows, "Job like that's pretty hard from what I hear."

Yondu took another sip, "Yeah it's long hours - but tha pay's decent."

"'S a big site. Looks like ya'll be here fer a while. Guess I'll be seein' more o' ya, now ya know where tha good coffee is, mister - ya'll got a name or what?"

Yondu chuckled, "I do - but 's just Yondu. That mister shit gives me tha jeebies - makes me feel old."

Kraglin grinned, showing off more silver teeth, "Well, Yondu, ya eggs'll be ready in two minutes."

Yondu raised a brow, "Really? 'Cause it were two minutes, five minutes ago."

The smile dropped off the taller man's face, "Shit!" He turned scrambling back towards the kitchen.

A hearty curse came from the back and Yondu broke into gruff laughter. This guy was quirky, he liked it.

Another few minutes passed and then a plate of eggs and toast was placed in front of him. Kraglin's face was tinged purple and he gave the Centaurian a weak smile, "Totally destroyed tha' first lot. 'S stuck solid ta tha pan." He shook his head ruefully. "Gon' take me ages ta scrub that mess off."

Yondu shoveled the eggs into his mouth, taking the toast and biting a huge dripping piece off. The flavour exploded in his mouth and he bit back a moan.

Holy shit, this guy was an excellent cook.

"Well I appreciate ya'll not servin' me 'em. Ain't much worse than tha taste o' burnt eggs."

Kraglin shrugged, "People dun come here fer ma sparklin' personality," those words were said rather self-deprecatingly, "they come here 'cause 'm good at what I do."

"Ya ain't wrong, yer food is top notch." He replied, fork digging into the eggs again.

"Thank ya." Kraglin said quietly. "I gotta go deal wit' tha mess I just made - so - enjoy."

"I will."

Kraglin turned and began to walk back towards the kitchen.

"Ya shouldn't sell yerself short, kid." Yondu muttered to himself, as he took a sip of his coffee. "You, yerself is as nice as yer cookin'."

The Centaurian had no idea what species Kraglin was or how excellent his hearing could be.

Kraglin stopped by the counter when he heard the compliment muttered barely within hearing range. He felt a blush spread up his neck and across his nose. A wide smile broke out on his face and he continued on into the kitchen with a pep in his gait.

No one ever said things like that about him. He decided he quite liked it.

Yondu's wristpad beeped and he flicked it towards him. The holographic message in amber text showed Tullk's name with the words; _Where the hell are you, boss?_

The Centaurian's eyes glanced at the little digital clock in the corner of the holo and he realised he was late for work for the first time he could remember. His eyes widened comically, and he inhaled egg mid-chew. Hacking and spluttering, he chugged down the rest of the excellent coffee, wincing as it burnt his throat and shuffled about in his pocket for a cred chit. He dropped a fifty on the table, knowing his meal had only come to under twenty and called out, "Love ta stick 'round Krags, but somehow I gon' made maself late. Creds is on tha table!"

"Ok!" Kraglin stuck his head around the kitchen wall but all that greeted him was the clang of the bell on the front door, "Bye..."

* * *

The next time Kraglin saw the foreman was in the middle of his lunch rush. He ducked and weaved between customers and tables, arms piled high with plates of food and nearly ran headlong into the man that hadn't quite left his thoughts all day. He stopped short, clumsily balancing the plates so that none hit the floor and blinked.

Yondu, hands stuffed into his pockets to avoid the cold, quirked a brow and said dryly, "Busy?"

Kraglin snorted, a goofy grin spreading across his face, "Really? I ain't noticed."

A gravelly chuckle rumbled from the shorter man's chest as his lips drug themselves into a crooked smirk, "I'll try'n find maself a chair."

Kraglin nodded, "Be wit' ya when I c'n."

When he eventually got around to serving Yondu, the man ordered a BLT and a beer. Kraglin's wasn't _technically_ licensed to sell alcohol but he found many of his customers, who were mostly in factory or office work, enjoyed a drink with their food. It wasn't like he didn't already brew his own on the side, so he converted the two sheds in his little backyard at the rear of the shop into two full time brewing stations.

The license meant little to the Hraxian at the end of the day. He was good friends with the local inspector, who kept it on the down-low for a case of beer every evaluation and the government could go screw itself for all he cared. It's not like they ever did anything for him anyway.

As he handed a customer their change he glanced at where Yondu was seated, the man was looking straight at him, causing Kraglin to start. A grin appeared on those navy lips and he tipped his beer in salute to the Hraxian. He felt the blush explode over his nose and looked down shyly, before catching the Centaurian’s eye again and nodding slightly.

“I think someone’s got a crush, Janice.”

“Too right, Rita.”

The pair of elderly ladies giggled like schoolgirls as Kraglin gave the two regulars a mock glare.

“Give over you two, I ain’t got nothin’.”

Rita looked over her half-moon glasses at the Hraxian, “Don’t bullshit us, boy, we been around since before yer Daddy was a twinkle in yer Granddaddy’s eye. You’ve been staring at that handsome man since he came in.”

“I’d get me leg over if he’d let me, eh?” Janice snickered, elbowing Rita, who laughed in response.

“ _Stars!_ Ya’ll’re a couple o’ hornbags.” Kraglin replied, chuckling at the women.

“Oh shit, he’s coming! Shhhh, shhhh!” Rita tittered.

Yondu leaned over the bar causally and held out a chit between his fingers, raising a brow at Kraglin, who was glaring at the women. They both looked like they wanted to burst out laughing.

Rolling his eyes at them, Kraglin put on his best smile, “Back to it, huh?”

“Yep.” The Centaurian replied, popping the ‘p’. “Keep tha change, eh?”

“Ya sure?”

“Hell yeah, yer beer is tha best I every tasted, an’ I been _all_ over.”

Kraglin fought another blush, “Thank ya.”

Yondu gave him a smile, “I’ll see ya later.” Glancing at the women seated at the bar as he turned, he tipped his head politely and gave them a flirty grin, “Ladies.”

Once he was out of earshot, Janice mock swooned, “Be still my ancient heart! Did you _see_ that, Rita?”

“I sure did, Janice.”

Kraglin chuckled, rolling his eyes again, “Go home you two. Yer scarin’ tha other customers.”

“Well I never!” Janice exclaimed, clutching at her chest like an old southern belle. “Come on Rita, I know when we’re not wanted!”

“Too right, Janice.”

“Love ya’ll too.” Kraglin replied dryly.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, deary. It’s your turn to drive, Janice.”

“I _drove here_ , Rita!”

Their arguing faded into the background as they headed towards the door and Kraglin laughed at their antics, heading into the kitchen to get a start on the dishes before dinner.

* * *

Dinner was a reasonably quiet affair that evening, giving Kraglin the rare chance to clean as he goes, rather than at the end of the night, and for that he was grateful.

Yondu didn’t make an appearance, which frankly ticked Kraglin off a bit, before he realised the man was just a customer and didn’t owe him shit.

He was sweeping the floor five minutes before closing, when the bell above the door sang.

“Kitchen’s closed.” He stated gruffly without looking up.

“Actually, I just wanted a beer.”

Kraglin’s eyes widened and he tripped over his own feet, sprawling gracelessly into the counter and clocking his head on the surface. He gave a wounded yelp and rubbed it, looking over at the Centaurian standing in the doorway. The man was biting his lip to keep from laughing, shoulders shaking silently.

“Shaddup.” Kraglin growled, hauling himself up and going around the counter. He fished a beer out of the icebox and popped the cap with an incisor, before plonking it down on the bar. Yondu still looked like he wanted to laugh as he let the door clang shut behind him. Kraglin snorted and went back for his broom, “’S on tha house.”

“Nah I –”

“Can it. Ya given me fifty creds in tips today, which were more than both yer meals put together, tha least I c’n do is give ya a beer.”

The Centaurian smiled, it made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and Kraglin found it strangely endearing. “Thank ya. I need it, been drownin’ in fuckin’ paperwork all evenin’.”

“Ya git any dinner?”

“Nah,” the older man replied, taking a swig of his beer, “didn’t have time.”

“I’ll make ya a sandwich.” Kraglin replied, leaning the broom in the corner.

“Thought ya said kitchen were closed.”

“I just opened it again.”

“Dun go ta no trouble, I’ll just eat a bowl o’ cereal when I git back.”

Kraglin snorted, “A bowl a – no – no, ya ain’t eatin’ _cereal_ fer dinner. What are ya five?”

“What’re’ya ma mother?” Yondu shot back with a smirk.

“It ain’t even tha good stuff is it?” Kraglin called from the kitchen.

“It’s tha great stuff! It’s them little fruity loops - fuckin’ amazin’.”

“That’s them ones coated in sugar, ya heathen.”

“They taste nice.”

“Yeah, but, they’re corn, dipped in colourin’, then dipped in sugar. They’s ‘bout as healthy as roadkill.”

Yondu chuckled heartily, “Ya got me there.”

Kraglin reappeared with - the Centaurian had to admit – a pretty incredible looking sandwich. “There. I reheated some leftover Sloppy Joe from tha dinner special.”

“Yer a gem, Krags.”

The Centaurian hoofed into the sandwich like a starving man. Kraglin snickered when he got sauce on his face. He shook his head and left the man to it, getting a tray of dishes to put away from the kitchen.

Once he’d stacked the coffee mugs on the shelf and the cutlery under the bar, Yondu was pushing the empty plate away.

“Didn’t realise how fuckin’ hungry I was.” He said with a chuckle.

Kraglin smirked, “Ya got some – here.” He took the corner of his apron, leaning over the bar and swiping at the corner of the older man’s mouth. He held the corner out with a shrug, “Sauce.”

Yondu held his eyes – they had something in them the Hraxian couldn’t place. Blushing he moved back and cleared his throat, searching for something to say.

The Centaurian slid off the bar stool, “A’right, I’ll let ya git back to it.”

The taller man smiled, “Sure. I’ll – uh – I’ll see ya tomorrow, maybe?”

He cringed, _Way to sound desperate, ya fool._

“C’n ya make pancakes?”

Kraglin scoffed, “What’da you think?”

Yondu chuckled, “O’ course ya can, what am I sayin’?” He opened the door, “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Stay outta them fruit loops!” The Hraxian called after him.

Yondu barked out a laugh, “Later, Kraggles.”

The Hraxian watched him go through the shop front with a dreamy smile, then groaned. He banged his head on the counter, “Fuckin’ got it bad, Obfonteri. Ya moron.”

* * *

Kraglin blearily sipped his morning coffee as the bread order came in, he couldn’t get into the rhythm this morning. It didn’t help he couldn’t stop thinking about Yondu coming in this morning.

Peter handed him the pen to sign for the order, “Ya alright Kraglin? Ya seem – off.”

The taller man grunted, he didn’t _hate_ Peter, but he didn’t really _like_ him either. The guy never seemed to notice though, always a mix of cheerful and asshole. “Yeah ‘m fine Pete, just tired.”

The Terran raised an eyebrow, “Uh-huh, _sure_ ya are.”

Kraglin took a lazy swipe at his head, “Shaddup.”

Peter ducked under the hand, and backed out of the shop, “Couldn’t be anything to do with that guy that’s been coming in, huh?”

The Hraxian blinked, “How in tha fuck ya know about that?”

Peter smirked, “Rita and Janice _own_ the bakery ya get yer bread from, dummy.”

“Them gossipy bints! What tha hell they say, Pete?”

“Nothin’!” He smirked wryly, “’Cept yer head over heels fer some bloke.”

Kraglin picked a roll off the top of his order and pegged it at the younger man, “Fuck off, I ain’t!”

He batted the roll away with a laugh, which quickly turned to horror when Kraglin pulled a knife off the magnetised rack. “Anyways, gotta fly, bye!”

The Hraxian ducked his head around the door and called out, “Ya tell Rita and Janice ta stop talkin’ ‘bout my shit or they c’n say goodbye ta their mates rates!”

“Ha! Askin’ fer that is like askin’ them ta stop arguin’! Bye Kraglin!”

The taller man rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I miss somement?”

Kraglin swung around to see Yondu standing on the pathway, with a lopsided grin, hands in his pockets.

“Yer early.” The Hraxian said dumbly.

The Centaurian shrugged, “Woke up ‘fore tha alarm.” He nodded towards the knife, “Ya plannin’ ta commit murder or what?”

He looked down at his hand and snorted, “Nah, just scarin’ tha bugger. He’s a’right, just a bit o’ an asshole on occasion.”

Yondu snorted, “Ya should meet ma crew, ya dunno shit ‘bout assholes ‘til ya worked wit’ them.”

Kraglin nodded towards the shopfront, “Com’on in.” They walked together to the door and Kraglin held it open.

The Centaurian smirked up at him, “Ta.”

The taller man headed towards the back, “Pancakes, ya wanted, weren’t it?”

“Good memory.” Yondu replied, sliding into a booth.

Kraglin scoffed, “Hardly. It were yesterday.” He disappeared into the kitchen. “Yer in fer a treat,” he called over the clangs of pots and pans, “I got ma hands on real Terran maple syrup.”

Yondu slid back out the booth and wandered over to the counter, slinking around the corner, he stuck his head through the little window, “Nice.”

Kraglin jumped a foot in the air and cursed, “Fuck! Ya move quiet.”

“’S all part o’ ma charm, that is.”

“Scaring people inta likin’ ya?”

“Ya never know what I’mma do next, ‘s a thrill.”

“Or a heart attack.” The taller man replied dryly.

Yondu chuckled.

Kraglin was really beginning to enjoy that sound, it was rich and deep, almost decadent, like strawberries and chocolate.

He especially liked the fact he was the one making Yondu laugh, it sent a zing down his spine, all lemon and honey.

Internally he groaned, he knew he really had it bad when he started using food metaphors.

Mentally he yanked back all the floating random thoughts and daydreams, screwed them up into a ball, shoved them in a pocket and focused up on what he was actually supposed to be doing; making pancakes.

His hands shot out for various ingredients and utensils, throwing each one into a bowl with a flourish that impressed even himself, he cracked each egg into the bowl and threw them in the bin without looking, put the perfect amount of milk in without a cup and sprinkled in the spices like a seasoned pro.

Yondu watched the impressive display with curiosity, “What’s’em spices yer chuckin’ in?”

Kraglin’s eyes slid off his work as he whisked the lot up with ease, “Secret. ‘S what makes ma pancakes so good.”

Yondu smirked then sniffed the air, his sense of smell was ten times what most species considered normal, “Cinnamon.” He sniffed again, “Nutmeg.” He frowned he knew the smell of the last one but couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “And – is that – _chilli_?”

Kraglin smiled, “Impressive. It’s just a hit o’ chili, mind. Gives ‘em just a slight kick – an’ with syrup? Fuckin’ beautiful.”

Yondu raised a brow, he’d never seen anyone so passionate about food. It was nice. “Can’t wait.” He replied.

The Hraxian set the grill to heat up and ducked back out into the diner, “Lemme make ya a coffee. I need another one anyway.”

Yondu moved back into the dining area and slid onto a stool at the counter. Kraglin tipped the beans into the grinder and flicked it on, once enough was ground he flicked it back off and proceeded to make two cups.

“That coffee ya get in’s pretty damn good.”

Kraglin grinned, “Yeah, I try ta buy most o’ ma stuff local, like. Ol’ Aster on 34th Street owns Killer Coffee. His ma owned a hotel down there when he was a kid, when she passed on, he converted tha whole place into a hydro plant, each floor is a different business. Quite clever actually. He got that top floor fer his coffee, he grows an’ roasts it all in house. On Fridays, ya c’n smell tha roastin’ coffee fer three blocks, it’s gorgeous.” He dumped six sugars and cream into Yondu’s without needing to ask and handed it over. Yondu was strangely touched he remembered something as trivial as how he took his coffee.

Kraglin took a sip of his own black coffee, two sugars and strode back into the kitchen to make the pancakes, as he did, he continued the conversation.

“All ma veggies come from Lou an’ Stuart who grow ‘em on their floor, ya ain’t never seen tomatoes like what they got lemme tell ya. Ya could eat one’o’em bastards like an apple, an’ tha flavour is like nothin’ ya ain’t never had. Mac an’ Sarah own a farm ‘bout an hour outta tha city, it’s tha one right next ta tha mine, one o’ tha few left on tha planet. Their shop is half butcher’s an’ half fruit market, they called it Bananas Butchery, which I think is meant ta be cute, but it more just sounds weird than anythin’. Then Rita an’ Janice own the bakery on tha bottom floor, ya met them little gossipy biddies yesterday. I brew all ma own beer out tha back, got two half decent stations set up, although a guy like ya’d pro’ly git out there an’ tell me how wrong I dun it, but it works an’ e’eryone reckons it ain’t half bad. All in all, we’s a pretty tight lot I reckon, all got our jobs an’ purposes.”

He reappeared with a plate of steaming pancakes and a jug of syrup. “Fuckin’ell, listen ta me talkin’ yer ear off ‘bout ma boring shit! Sorry.”

Yondu stared at him with a soft smile on his face, Kraglin blushed. “Come sit at tha booth wit’ me.” The Centaurian said, sliding off the stool and walking over. Kraglin followed like a moth to a light bulb, swinging in the breeze.

They both slid in on opposite sides, Kraglin handing over the plate carefully. Yondu took the syrup from him and poured some of it on the pancakes. He cut into them and took a bite. Kraglin was right, they were fucking beautiful. He actually moaned out loud and Kraglin blushed even harder. He shouldn’t have, but it was such a pleased noise, like the Hraxian had just made his year, all with a plate of fucking pancakes.

“’M glad ya like ‘em.” He murmured.

Yondu looked up and was struck with a thought.

He never wanted to be anywhere else but right here, right now, enjoying this moment, with this extraordinary man that had somehow in a little over twenty-four hours completely consumed his world.

The Centaurian dropped his fork with a clatter. His hand shot over the table and grabbed Kraglin’s old grey t-shirt, he yanked the startled man over the table and met him halfway. Their lips crashed together and Kraglin’s brain short-circuited for a fraction before his mouth opened in a gasp. Yondu took the opportunity to snake his tongue into the taller man’s mouth, and finally, _finally_ the shock wore off and Kraglin surged up and over the table to get closer to him. He somehow ended up in the Centaurian’s lap, and the man bucked up in surprise, Kraglin moaned brokenly into his mouth and Yondu set about revealing some more skin.

* * *

Outside a very irate Janice screeched to a halt in her car, slamming the door and stomping up the curb. It was all well and good to have a go at Peter, he was after all somewhat of an asshole on occasion but brandishing a knife on the poor boy was a step too far! Janice was going to give Kraglin a good telling off!

She halted just outside the shop door when she saw what was happening inside. Her face went as red as one of Stuart and Lou’s tomatoes and she said in a high voice, “We should come back later, Rita.”

“Why the _hell_ should we do that?! I’m going to give that boy a piece of my mind – oh. Oh my!” She pointed, “They’re – um –”

Janice continued to stare at the scene before her, “Yes, Rita, they are.”

“We should come back later, Janice.” Rita replied, tugging at the sleeve of her cardigan.

Janice’s head whipped around as they turned back to the car, “I _just_ said that, Rita!”

* * *

Oblivious to anyone but each other, Yondu and Kraglin looked a right sight, both men had somehow managed to get their pants off in a space that was so very clearly designed for one person. Yondu’s jacket was somewhere over by the jukebox, along with Kraglin’s stained apron. The front of Kraglin’s t-shirt was hooked over the back of his head and Yondu’s hi-vis buttons were likely all over the diner’s floor. The remains of it, after the Hraxian had ripped it off enthusiastically was pooled around the older man’s bare hips. Yondu was doing some creative work, leaving love bites all over Kraglin’s heaving chest.

Once he was done, he pulled back with a soft grin, “Perfect.” He murmured and Kraglin flushed predictably and ducked his head. The Centaurian pulled his chin up and kissed him again. This time it was less of a battle to climb inside one another and more of a languid tangle of tongues. Somehow Kraglin found it to be more erotic than the first way.

“I need ya.” He breathed quietly, as they broke apart.

Yondu leaned his forehead against the taller man’s and smiled, “Me too.” He whispered against pale lips. Kraglin knelt up on his knees, bracing a hand against the glass and another on the table next to a shattered coffee cup one of them had somehow broken.

The Centaurian leaned around him, chuckling as he peeled a piece of pancake off the back of Kraglin’s shirt, he looked up to see if the other man was watching, then quickly took a bite before dropping it back on the plate. It’d be a real shame to waste such lovely pancakes. He spied the jug and dragged it towards himself, he dipped his hand in the sticky substance and grinned.

Kraglin looked down and snickered, “Tha syrup? _Really_?”

“It’s sexy.” The older man replied with a lecherous smile. “Ya made me pancakes, an’ now I’mma use tha syrup ta fuck ya.”

_That shouldn’t be hot._ Kraglin thought, but his body betrayed him with a violent shiver. He dove down to kiss the man beneath him and Yondu met him with unbridled enthusiasm. He was so busy trying to figure out if the Centaurian’s tongue was prehensile or if it was just really fucking flexible, he barely noticed what else was going on, until Yondu hit that _perfect_ little spot inside of him.

He ripped his mouth away and moaned brokenly, bucking into Yondu roughly. “There! Fuckin’ell – right – there!”

The Centaurian grunted loudly. The guttural noise was followed by a series of sounds that felt like a sentence to Kraglin’s hazy brain, but he wasn’t aware of the language. Absently, he smacked the spot behind his ear where his translator was.

Yondu smirked, “Ain’t broken, ma native tongue is too old, dun register on anythin’.”

The Hraxian simply nodded in response sure if he opened his mouth right now all that would come out would be an embarrassing sound. Yondu removed his fingers and Kraglin made the sound anyway, followed by a breathless grunt as the older man hoisted him up onto the table, knocking everything on it to the floor with a satisfying crash of broken crockery.

Kraglin felt the warmth of the spilled coffee and the sticky syrup seep through his t-shirt – a ruined pancake squished between his shoulder blades. The whole thing was loud, messy, and utterly debauched – and yet – so _completely_ perfect. His body was so strung out on sheer _feeling_ , he thought he just might vibrate apart. All the thoughts flew from his mind rather quickly, as Yondu entered him with one swift flick of his hips.

He snarled in shock, nails digging furrows into the older man’s biceps. Yondu swooped in from above and captured his lips, never once faltering his bruising pace. Kraglin’s stomach twitched and tightened as the Centaurian hit his prostate dead on.

He ripped his mouth away, “I’mma –” The hoarseness of his voice surprised even him, he sounded exactly how he felt – utterly _destroyed_.

Yondu never missed a beat, encircling his cock with a work-roughened, sticky palm. Two brutal strokes and that’s all his body could take. Kraglin’s spine bent at an unnatural angle, and all the breath was punched out of him. He saw nothing but white as every part of him tingled.

The Centaurian slammed both hands on the table either side of Kraglin’s head as he came, muttering a broken, “ _Fuck_ ” into the other man’s hair.

When Kraglin came back to himself, Yondu’s head was slumped over his stomach. The younger man chuckled blissfully, passing a hand over the implant bolted into the Centaurian’s skull. “Shit.” He exclaimed serenely.

Yondu grunted, moving his head to look up at the Hraxian. He snorted, “Ya got syrup in yer hair.”

Kraglin’s hand passed over his head, “Damn, we made a fuckin’ mess.”

The Centaurian’s lips quirked up at the side, “Worth it?”

He returned the look and with a nod, replied honestly, “Worth it.”

* * *

After the diner was shut for the night Kraglin wandered from the kitchen after finishing his clean up for the night to find Yondu, who he’d left with a coffee and some paperwork at the breakfast bar.

The man was on a call. Kraglin hung back near the kitchen door and waited quietly.

“Yeah – yeah – blastin’s on schedule sir, dun ya worry none.” He paused. “We’s still well under budget – yeah – yeah I know – yes’sir. Provided tha weather holds up ain’t gon’ be a thing ta worry ‘bout.” Yondu rolled his eyes as he listened. “Yes’sir. Tha reason I called?” He took a sip of his coffee. “Nah, ain’t no problems wit’ tha job. Well – I just wanted ta let ya know, this’ll be ma last.” Kraglin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No’sir. I ain’t been offered nothin’. I – I just found somement worth stayin’ put fer.” His eyes found Kraglin’s and he smiled. “Yes’sir. Thanks – yeah ya too. Cheers.”

He dropped the datapad onto the bar and pulled out his earpiece. He raised a brow, “Thoughts?”

Kraglin opened his mouth, then closed it again. He couldn’t think of a moment he’d been happier. He opened his mouth again and replied intelligently, “Uh –”

Yondu’s face took on a guarded quality, and Kraglin knew he was going to blow it. He moved forwards quickly, to reassure the other man, promptly tripping over the mop bucket and landing flat on his back.

“I think I love you!” He croaked out, gasping to get some air back into his lungs.

Yondu leaned over the bar to look at him, both brows raised now.

“’M pretty sure I fell in love wit’ ya the second ya walked in tha door.” Kraglin said quietly, shuffling up onto his elbows, neck craned upwards to look the Centaurian in the eyes.

“Funny.” Yondu replied with a grin. “Pretty sure I fell in love wit’ ya, when ya burnt ma eggs.”

“I didn’t actually serve ‘em!” Kraglin huffed.

“No. Ya didn’t.” Yondu’s whole face softened. “I love you.”

Kraglin grinned up at him, feeling like the whole world had just fallen into place. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The concept of Hrax and Hraxian!Kraglin comes from the incredible Write_Like_An_American, who's stories I utterly adore <3 (and you should totally go read, like, all of them because they are amazing) So, as usual mad shout out and big love to them for creating it because none of my stories would exist without their ideas :)


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